There and Back Again

Disposition: Easy going
Listening: Keith Urban
Reading: Crisis Four (Andy McNab)
Watching: Under the Tuscan Sun
Obsessing: Karl Urban and Sean Bean
Pondering: The best portion of a good man’s life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love. (William Wordsworth)

This past weekend, I learned the story of the Blessed Father Damien, born Joseph de Veuster. The movie Molokai: The Story of Father Damien chronicles Father Damien’s struggles and triumphs as a missionary in the Hawaiian island of Molokai sometime in the mid-1800s. Molokai was then quarantine “prison” for people infected and suspected to be infected with Hansen’s Disease, also known as leprosy. Because leprosy was an incurable and misunderstood disease at that time, people infected with it were banished to this island to suffer the last days of their miserable life with very little food and shelter and total lack of treatment. Father Damien, a missionary priest, went to Molokai and championed the cause of these forgotten and segregated people. Father Damien argued with government for funding, food, clothing, nurses and doctors. In the end, Father Damien also got infected with the disease and died in Molokai. Before his death in 1889, he had increased the world’s awareness to the plight of the people of Molokai. As the Catholic Encyclopedia describes, “He not only administered the consolations of religion, but also rendered them such little medical service and bodily comforts as were within his power. He dressed their ulcers, helped them erect their cottages, and went so far as to dig their graves and make their coffins. After twelve years of this heroic service he discovered in himself the first symptoms of the disease. This was in 1885. He nevertheless continued his charitable ministrations, being assisted at this period by two other priests and two lay brothers. On 28 March, 1889, Father Damien became helpless and passed away shortly after, closing his fifteenth year in the service of the lepers.”

In watching the movie, I remember the priest I have known or met in my lifetime. Having grown up Catholic and having gone to Catholic schools in all of my student life, I’ve encountered a number of them, most as teachers and professors. I’ve met those who reach out to the community, teach the values of religion, and offer themselves to their vocation and to their community. One of my most memorable professors in college was a radical Irish-Catholic priest whose lively discussions about religion and society was always eye opening. I also knew priests who were strict educators but never failed to show compassion during confession. And then again, I’ve also known priests who are forgettable and not worth remembering.

Now I am older and I’ve taken on different ways to profess my faith and I’ve visited the church less and less. Most of the priests I’ve seen of late are the ones on TV. And at a time like this, when all you ever hear about Catholic priests are their indiscretions, charges of sexual molestations and DUI manslaughters, the story of Father Damien restores your faith on the agents of the Catholic church, even for just a short while. His story reminds me why I believe in saints and why I used to ask priests to bless me during confession. He reminds me of the goodness in people’s hearts, the reasons why we aim to lead a good life and why some of us still believe in religion and in God.